


and sore must be the storm

by lovecybelle, rc1788



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Dating, Drabble, Falling In Love, Grief/Mourning, Hospitals, M/M, Mutual Pining, Past Riley/Sam Wilson, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Romance, Sam Wilson Birthday Bang, Sam Wilson-centric, brief description of death and canon typical violence, very brief mention of past steve/bucky and steve/peggy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-09 23:58:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12286941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovecybelle/pseuds/lovecybelle, https://archiveofourown.org/users/rc1788/pseuds/rc1788
Summary: Sam could distinguish the tombstone from far away, before they even reached the row, jumping out at him like a familiar face in a crowd. His hand clenched around Steve's, and he tightened his grip on the bouquet of red poppies. Steve shot him a concerned glance.He thought after two years it would get easier, but it never did.Steve ran his thumb over Sam's trembling hand, and it was all Sam could do not to fall apart right there. He swallowed, taking several deep breaths before he spoke."Well... here's Riley.”How Sam and Steve start dating after the helicarrier incident, and are learning how to share their lives. Steve goes with Sam to visit Riley's grave on the anniversary of his death.





	and sore must be the storm

**Author's Note:**

> Created for the Sam Wilson Birthday Bang. Words by me, lovecybelle. Special thanks to my amazing artist partner, Cat! They are ao3 user rc1788 and on tumblr @samwichwilson. They created the amazing playlist and cover graphic for this fic! Playlist is here:  
> https://playmoss.com/en/itscatstho/playlist/and-sore-must-be-the-storm  
> Cover graphic is here:  
> https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B40K-FdCGEohdnZMUG0tczRiY2VMWjRyUGh6V3NCX1d2ZnZ3/view?usp=sharing  
> More links in the end notes!
> 
> The song quoted in the first scene is the Marvin Gaye song "Trouble Man", that Sam recommended to Steve when they first met, and then played for him in that hospital scene in the movie.

> “Hope” is the thing with feathers -  
>  That perches in the soul -  
>  And sings the tune without the words -  
>  And never stops - at all -
> 
> And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -  
>  And sore must be the storm -  
>  That could abash the little Bird  
>  That kept so many warm -
> 
> -Emily Dickinson

 

_…I come up hard, come on, get down. There’s only three things for sure- taxes, death and trouble…_

The music was the first thing Steve is aware of, sliding over him like silk. It was both carefree and wistful, the voice crooning out above the steady strains of the guitar and drums. The soulful sound of the brass and piano reminded him of the bands that played in the dance halls of Harlem, that he and Bucky used to sneak into just to listen- but that was so long ago… 

Steve stirred, the memories of the battle on the helicarrier, of falling into the Potomac trickling back into his mind. His body remembers that too, and every part of him ached, his face swelling up. Eyes drifting open, he blinked several times before he could make out the hospital bed he was laying on. God, he hated waking up in hospitals- every time since he came out of the ice, there’s that irrational fear that it’s happened again, that he’s decades further into the future, and the slate of people in his life will be wiped clean for the second time. Just as this terrifying thought occurred to him, and he almost panicked, he turned his head- and oh. 

Sam was sitting beside his bed, eyes closed and looking down, asleep or maybe just deep in thought. It seemed like the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. 

All at once the anxieties rushed out of his head, and Steve lay there, staring at Sam. There’s maybe three people in this century that he might expect to be at his bedside, and he met Sam, what, a couple days ago? Yet it didn’t surprise him that Sam was there. It already felt like they’ve known each other for years. 

“On your left,” Steve rasped out. 

Sam looked up at him, the corner of his mouth twisting up into a smirk. Suddenly the knowledge that Steve’s oldest enemy had infiltrated the organization he worked for, that his best friend had been brainwashed by said enemy and couldn’t even recognize him, didn’t seem as unbearable. 

“Hey man,” Sam said quietly. “How you feeling?” 

“I’ve been better.” Steve grins back at him, and they just smile at each other. A long moment of silence stretched between them. 

_…I’ve come of heart, baby, but now I'm fine, I’m checking trouble, sure, hey, moving down the line…_

* * *

___Steve stepped out of a machine that took away his pain, and his world bloomed into color._ _ _

___Steve watched his best friend die, and that color seemed to fade._ _ _

___Steve woke up in a world he could never imagine, and nothing made sense._ _ _

___Steve’s best friend tried to kill him, without a flash of recognition behind his blank eyes, and everything made awful, complete sense._ _ _

___After that? Well- he’s coping. SHIELD is gone, the intelligence community is in shambles, but there’s still a few people he can trust. Whenever there’s a threat, Tony still sends for them and they help, an unofficial, unauthorized version of the team they once had. Fury, from wherever he is, sends encrypted files with coordinate points, and him, Natasha, and Clint fly out to the middle of nowhere, tearing through Hydra bases ruthlessly, and searching anywhere where Bucky might be. Sam’s with them now, too. Sam Goddamn Wilson. As far as Steve was concerned, Sam’s a fucking gift to humanity, and Steve couldn’t figure out what exactly he did to deserve someone like him._ _ _

___After he got out of the hospital, Sam was the one who spent time with him, who watched old episodes of Star Trek while they sat on his couch, who made him laugh, who convinced him to take breaks from the search once in a while, and stopped him from spiraling downwards into that hollow pit that had been inside him ever since he woke up from the ice. He didn’t want to think about it, but without Sam, Steve doubted that he’d have ever been able to survive all this. Sam cared about him, brought out the best in him, and did it all not as a counselor, but as a friend._ _ _

___Sam, who was kind and funny and effortlessly down to earth, who could fight like a raging blizzard but still give the warmest hugs. Sam, with his razor sharp wit and noble heart, with that brilliant gap-toothed smile and gorgeous brown eyes-_ _ _

___-and wow, Steve was in trouble._ _ _

* * *

___Even after only a few months of being friends, Sam could tell when Steve was hiding something. The guy seemed to believe that even after sacrificing almost everything he had to the American people, God forbid he burden his friends by asking for, dare I say, emotional support? So instead he traps all the feelings inside when something’s bothering him, walking around like the world’s most repressed piñata. Anger is the easiest to see. He’ll try to control it, take deep breaths and clench his fists, and pretend that nothing’s the matter. But if it breaks out, Sam can see with perfect clarity what he must have looked like back in the day, little spitfire Rogers overflowing with righteous fury too big for his frail body._ _ _

___Sadness, though, that’s another story. Steve’s better at hiding that, has had more practice- his frame just slightly more tense, his smile a bit too wide, and you’ll never notice right up until he breaks down. His eyes are the only part of him that show how much he’s hurting, and Sam would know that it might be one of those nights where he walks into their shared living room to find Steve staring hopelessly at a stack of black and white photographs, grieving for a life of friends he’ll never get back._ _ _

___They became roommates a couple of weeks after the helicarrier incident. Steve’s apartment was destroyed, he could definitely provide rent, and Sam couldn’t think of anyone else alive he’d rather live with. Sure, having Captain America as one of his closest friends wasn’t exactly something he’d predicted, but you take what life throws at you. Sam sure as hell knew that from experience. Sharing a house, they’d helped each other through plenty of panic attacks and bad days. Steve was surprisingly good at it, helping Sam breathe when it all seemed like too much. Now, it was clear that Steve had something to get off his chest. His eyes darted around, betraying his nerves as he closed the book he was pretending to read and looked up._ _ _

___“Sam, I, uh, have something to tell you.”_ _ _

___“Yeah?” Sam replied, putting aside his laptop. They were both sitting on the couch, barely two feet apart. “What’s going on?”_ _ _

___Steve cleared his throat, staring resolutely at the floor. “Um, I. I wanted to tell you how much I appreciate you. These last couple months have been hard, and…well, I’m just so glad I met you. I… I couldn’t ask for a better friend.”_ _ _

___Smiling and putting an arm around Steve’s shoulders, Sam felt a fluttering warmth in his chest. “Steve, I love being your friend. That means a lot to me.”_ _ _

___Steve looked up, and the blush was visible on his face. “I also wanted to say that, after… Peggy, and Bucky, I- I never thought I would… meet another person who-” he cut himself off, taking a deep breath. “Would you like to go have dinner sometime?”_ _ _

___All he could do was stare at Steve while his brain catches up, beginning to fill with elation and hope that Steve means what it sounds like._ _ _

___Mistaking Sam’s silence for disapproval, Steve’s eyes widened. “I didn’t mean- I’m sorry, forget I said that-“_ _ _

___Sam cut him off by leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Steve made a surprised noise, then leaned into it, reaching up a hand to cup Sam’s cheek. After a long moment they finally pulled apart, their noses nearly touching._ _ _

___“I’d love to have dinner with you, Steve.” Sam said with a smile._ _ _

* * *

___Sam could distinguish the tombstone from far away, before they even reached the row, jumping out at him like a familiar face in a crowd. His hand clenched around Steve's, and he tightened his grip on the bouquet of red poppies. Steve shot him a concerned glance._ _ _

___He thought after two years it would get easier, but it never did._ _ _

___Steve ran his thumb over Sam's trembling hand, and it was all Sam could do not to fall apart right there. He swallowed, taking several deep breaths before he spoke._ _ _

___"Well... here's Riley.”_ _ _

___The simple white stone just stared blankly back at him, the American flag standing next to it rippling in the breeze. Sam closed his eyes, and he could just picture that face, the blond hair and the kind brown eyes. Riley laughing with him, Riley flying, Riley taking orders, Riley holding him, Riley kissing him. Riley falling from the sky, pieces of burning shrapnel all around him, already unconscious and deaf to Sam’s screams- He opened his eyes with a start. Don’t go down that road again, he reminded himself._ _ _

___He moved to sit down, Steve following him as they lowered themselves on the grass in front of the grave. Sam placed the flowers beside the headstone, and laid his hand on the cool slab. Steve squeezed his hand, a soft reassurance, and Sam’s eyes slipped closed. He huffed out in a quick exhale, swallowing the lump in his throat._ _ _

___“Hey… hey Ri. It’s been a while since I came here man, and I’m sorry. You would not believe the shit I’ve seen lately. Spies, evil robots, brainwashed assassins… and I guess I’m kinda an Avenger now. That woulda blown your damn mind, huh?”_ _ _

___He smiled, and Steve laughed softly. It was weird, doing his usual ritual in front of Steve, and he thought he’d feel more self-conscious, and little crazy. But for some reason just having Steve there was a comfort, knowing Steve would never judge him for this._ _ _

___“I miss you, Ri. So damn much, I’d do anything to see your dumb face again, or hear your stupid jokes. My mom misses you too, she was so excited to finally meet you in person, give you her blessing.” The tears were spilling over his cheeks, despite his best efforts, and he let out a muffled sob. “I just wish I could talk to you again, hear how you’re doing up there. I love you, Riley. I’ll always love you.”_ _ _

___The sobs wrack his body, and he goes silent, wiping his face with his sleeve. Steve put an arm around his shoulders, rubbing his back as he leaned into it. A moment passes before he can speak again._ _ _

___“But we talked about this, before. I told you to keep living if anything happened to me, and I know you wanted me to do the same thing. You wanted me to move on, and I’m trying. So… I brought someone here to meet you. I think you’d like him.”_ _ _

___Sam looked at Steve, whose own eyes were watery. “Hi, Riley.” Steve choked out. Sam nodded encouragingly to him, giving him a teary smile._ _ _

___“I… I’m sorry I never got to meet you. I don’t know much about you, but I know I’ll never be who you were. That’s okay. We both want Sam to be happy… and I promise I’ll try.”_ _ _

___Sam laid his head on Steve’s trembling shoulders, and the dampness soaked through Steve’s shirt. They sit like that, still and quiet for a while, until the November air turns cold and the sun is edging over the horizon, each of the stones casting long shadows under the pale orange sky._ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I've rp'ed extensively for years, but I hardly ever write solo fic, so this was something of a milestone for me. If you want to rp with me, hit me on on tumblr or find me on omegle ;)
> 
> my tumblr: http://whothehellisjessicajones.tumblr.com/
> 
> Cat's tumblr: http://samwichwilson.tumblr.com/
> 
> Fic created for: https://samwilsonbirthdaybang.tumblr.com/


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